


His First Knight

by Kiiratam



Series: Pyrrha's Request [6]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), RWBY
Genre: Anal Sex, Canon Compliant, Double Vaginal Penetration, F/F, F/M, Fanfiction, In-Universe RPF, M/M, Metafiction, Oral Sex, Smut, Threesome - F/M/M, With a slight layer of deniability
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:22:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23287714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiiratam/pseuds/Kiiratam
Summary: A request from a friend, a meet cute between her OCs. Still set in the F&F world, like my Orlando x Furioso (x whoever ;P) fics, but in Thymisi, under the aegis of the Primate and the Argent Order.By BlackCat13.(Takes place between Volumes 2 and 3. (My BMBLB fic index))
Relationships: Blake Belladonna/Yang Xiao Long, Jaune Arc/Neptune Vasilias, Jaune Arc/Pyrrha Nikos, Jaune Arc/Pyrrha Nikos/Neptune Vasilias
Series: Pyrrha's Request [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1673770
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18





	His First Knight

Mars Tor pushed open the swinging doors of the tavern, remembering everything his knight-mistress had told him. He kept his shoulders straight, his hand near his sword hilt - but not on it - and his chin up as he surveyed the common room. Remembering not to stare, but staying on the threshold long enough for his dark blue eyes to adjust to the lower light.

  
Even if it was quite a sight. The place was full of boisterous cityfolk, relaxing after a long day of work. They were an eclectic mix - no aeldauphin, but every other sort of folk: humans, floras, orkas, and other faunus. A trio of musicians capered on a small raised stage, their music barely audible above the crowd.

  
He saw an empty chair with its back to the wall, and made for it. From there, he wouldn't have to watch his back, and could see about spending his coins on good drink and food.

  
Not that Sir Drake didn't feed him well! He had no complaints about his squirehood on that account - under ordinary circumstances. But they had been long on the road, doing valorous deeds for the Argent Order and the honor of Sir Drake's ladylove, and were only lately arrived back in the city. Sir Drake had already made her report at the Order chapterhouse, and was now undertaking the equally important delivery of her deeds to Lady Brinjal. Mars' presence was welcome at the first, and not at the second. Leaving him at liberty for the evening, at least. He could have just stayed in the chapterhouse.

  
But both the food and company at the chapterhouse could be... lacking. Mars _did_ truly believe in the mission of the Argent Order, but why fight so hard to preserve everything good if you weren't going to enjoy it when you could? Sir Drake espoused a similar attitude, which was why _she_ was engaged in the art of _fin'amor_ presently. And why Mars was in a tavern.

  
He hadn't seen a name out front, just a hanging placard depicting a rooster and a full mug of beer. But it was near enough to the chapterhouse to be safe, not so close as to be boring. And judging from the clientele, it wasn't beyond his means.

  
Not that the life of a squire was _profitable_ , but Sir Drake did give him a share of the ransoms he took. Mars was a commoner, after all, not a child of nobility, and he could hardly be a knight without armor. And armor was horribly, _absurdly_ expensive. He still wasn't sure if he'd be able to save enough before Sir Drake pronounced his squirehood complete.

  
He pushed all that to the back of his mind. Mars had taken a few coins from his savings, and was going to _thoroughly_ enjoy the comforts of civilization while he could. Before he knew it, Sir Drake would lead him back into the wilds, to contend with foul knights and dank fortresses. But not tonight.

  
Mars reached for the back of the chair - and encountered another hand. He looked up, into a pair of eyes, gleaming like sapphires under a cowl.

  
The stranger laughed merrily, throwing back his crimson hood. "Come, I think I got here first, sir!" His hair was a brilliant blue, cut high in a warrior's hawk. "Shall we take turns? Or should you just like to sit in my lap?"

  
Shaking his mane of pale blond hair, Mars said, "It's not crowded enough for two to a chair, my good man." And found himself smiling at the stranger, without really meaning to. "But if we can secure another chair, I would happily eat and drink in company."

  
Looking him up and down, the warrior asked, "Argent Order?"

  
"The same."

  
Seemingly speaking to himself, the man said, "Why not, I've never had a holy knight before." Returning Mars' smile, he whistled, catching the attention of one of the barmaids. After some gesturing, she took his point, and, nimbly dancing through the crowds, brought another chair to the small table.

* * *

  
< **Me** : Hey, do you think I should actually have Pyrrha in this?>

  
< **Yang** : As who, Mars' knight-mistress?>

  
Blake was very grateful Yang wasn't in their room. Because her first draft had started with Sir Drake sending Mars out with a handful of coin, giving him some advice, and waxing poetical about her ladylove. Blake had gotten rid of that bit when she realized that she was spending an awful lot of words on the breadth of Sir Drake's shoulders, and her leonine torrent of golden-bright hair, and how well she filled out her doublet-

  
Hoping that Weiss wasn't going to look up from her homework and wonder what all the blushing was about, Blake typed a response.

  
< **Me** : I think that makes for weird relationship dynamics. I was going to make her a cute barmaid.>

  
< **Yang** : Oooh. What if she's listening at the door when Mars and Auran are banging?>

  
< **Me** : Yang!>

  
< **Yang** : "Making sweet love", then.>

  
Blake had to admit that Yang's idea did have merit. She went back to writing.

* * *

  
Mars grinned as she bent over to place the chair down, her scarlet braid calling attention to her well-displayed cleavage. The stranger caught her eye as she straightened, and winked at her.

  
She beamed back at the two of them - and rushed off to tend to another customer.

  
Sitting, Mars turned his attention to his compatriot. "Who do I drink with, and what shall we drink to?"

  
"I hight Auran of the Coin, for coin is my mistress." He laughed. "And none of you Lats can pronounce my full name right. How shall I call you, Sir Argent?"

  
"Not Sir. I am yet a squire. But you may call me Mars. I celebrate my return to civilization."

  
Auran looked him over carefully. "I should have recognized another man of the road. But squire? You carry yourself like a true warrior."

  
"That, I owe to the tutelage of my mistress-knight. She is a puissant warrior, a slayer of fell beasts, and bold as noon."

  
Framing his jawline with his thumb and forefinger, Auran assumed a thoughtful mien. "You speak of Sir Drake, just this day arrived in the city."

  
Mars could not hide his surprise, as he gaped. "Indeed! The same! Your ears hear all that happens in this city, it seems."

  
"Come, come, your mistress-knight is no small piece of news! She is beloved by the people! And," Auran added, leaning forward, "Certain high-ranking ladies of the court."

  
Schooling his face to neutrality, Mars unleashed the words that he had been charged by Sir Drake to deliver in all matters concerning Lady Brinjal. "No comment."

  
Auran laughed. "You are truly loyal!"

  
The words were complimentary, but Mars suspected the laughter. "How, you think my loyalty is entertaining?"

  
"Not your loyalty, good squire, but your words." Shaking his blue hawk, he said, "You say them with such determination, such force! As you seek to banish gossips with an invocation! Were we in other lands, the Iron Inquisition would think you a mage!"

  
Starting to see the humor, but keeping his face placid, Mars remarked, "But you remain, so either I am a poor mage, or you are no gossip."

  
"Oh, my desire to gossip has vanished entirely, so I judge you a skilled abjurer indeed. But you have spoken of drinking, and celebrating your return to the city, and I will quaff to your return, if you'll drink to mine."

  
"You are lately returned?"

  
Auran shook his head, "Nay, but I mean to set out soon." He laughed. "As soon as my purse is thin enough to drive me out."

  
"Did you have a destination in mind?" Mars knew that his mistress-knight's thirst for glory was inexhaustible, and he would be a poor squire if he did not inquire after it.

  
"Oh, aye. But we can speak of such things later." He whistled, holding up two fingers for the barmaid. 

  
She swept by, placing two flagons of beer on the table, and plucked the silver coin from Auran's fingers. Smiling broadly at the pair of them.

  
"Keep them coming, as long as that holds out." Auran turned to Mars, seizing one of the flagons and raising it. "In thanks for your safe return."

  
Mars clinked his against Auran's. "In hopes of yours."

  
They drank.

* * *

  
"As the gods love me, it's true!" Auran tore a last hunk of meat from his drumstick with his teeth.

  
With a raised eyebrow (and drumstick), Mars regarded him. "An orka clan chieftess?"

  
Auran swallowed, and flashed his companion a grin. "Well, I had slain her consorts. She was quick to recognize talent."

  
" _And_ all of her sub-chieftesses?"

  
"My friend, I won't pretend it wasn't a long, arduous process. Why, there were moments when I was _certain_ I couldn't go on. But a valorous, indefatigable spirit arose within me, and I overcame." Auran was very nearly laughing as he spoke. "I won't pretend it wasn't a bruising experience, but a few weeks of city life have seen me hale and hardy again. Ready for adventure. Wherever she may roam." His eyes raked the red-headed barmaid as she passed by, and she valiantly stuck out her tongue at him.

  
Mars rolled his eyes and kept eating. Auran had been making eyes at her all night, to no better result for him. ...Not that Mars hadn't, along with everyone else in the room. But she was full of playful deflections for everyone, and Mars could see the results of it, his trained eye spotting the full purse tucked into her bodice. 

  
Not that Sir Drake had trained him to spot purses. Concealed weapons, yes. But both left similar traces on outer clothing, and Mars had done his share of plundering the dead in engagements. Never of the honorable dead, of course. He was no battlefield corpse raker. But outlaws, mages, the dishonorable scum of the Iron Inquisition...

  
It wasn't strictly proper for a Knight of the Argent Order. But for a squire, and one common-born, it could be overlooked. Mars suspected that was exactly why Sir Drake had chosen him. By this point, he held no illusions that Sir Drake had thought him a natural talent with weapons. She had drilled him until he could scarce stand, defeating him in hundreds of bouts, dragging him up to not just competence, but expertise.

  
But the alcohol was making him look inward, and lose the thread of conversation.

  
"Your pardon, Auran, I missed that."

  
Holding up a finger, Auran finished the last of his beer.

  
Mars returned to his meal, wondering if he should signal to the barmaid for another drink.

  
Dabbing at the corners of his mouth with his napkin, Auran let out a thunderous belch.

  
Though he rolled his eyes, Mars was amused, almost despite himself. He wasn't sure how much of Auran was a performance - and which parts. Was it the manners that were false, or the hairy-chested barbarism? Or both? Or neither? It was an entertaining contradiction, regardless.

  
"I had asked of your mighty deeds, Mars. With sword or-" He waggled his eyebrows. " _sword_."

  
Mars tried to keep from blushing. "I have a keen sword and a ready shield-"

  
"-Not so ready as to be here-" Auran gave him a simply _infuriating_ look, motioning him to go on.

  
"-but I wield them in the glory of Sir Drake, not for my own sake. She has fought froghemoths, death-dealers, and woeful mages. I merely helped."

  
Auran leaned back in his chair, raising his eyes to the heavens. Or the ceiling, whichever he found first. "Modesty! Oh, the greatest of sins!"

  
Mars wasn't quite sure how to respond to that.

  
"You claim nothing for yourself yet?"

  
After a moment of consideration, Mars said, "In our latest delve, Sir Drake and I were separated by a trapped wall."

  
"Confounded things. They ought to be damned, along with map-erasers and teleport traps."

  
"Sir Drake, of course, had a plan in place, an established rendezvous point just outside the fortress."

  
Auran nodded. "She would not be alive if she was not prudent."

  
"She had the difficult part, of course, navigating through unknown territory back into what we had explored, confronting monsters the whole way-"

  
"-Yes, yes, I _know_ she's glorious, I want your part."

  
"I merely had to retrace our steps. Now, there was a bit of skullduggary involved. Sir Drake had won through a camp of wolfsheads by challenging the leader to a duel. They feared her, and would allow her safe passage, but I had to skulk around them."

  
"I see she instilled in you a sense of the practical."

  
Mars took a drink. "From there, I thought I had safe passage. But-"

  
"-Something was waiting for you."

  
"Someone. An Aeldauphin lord who Sir Drake had defeated in a duel several weeks before. Now, I have no doubt that he was following us for some mischief, seeking to swoop down upon Sir Drake when she was engaged with another foe. But me, alone?"

  
Auran slowly nodded. "He, naturally, thought himself your better."

  
"I was _only_ her squire, after all. And he knew this, for I had been at their duel. Sir Drake had even jested after their first round, pretending to hand me her weapons, insulting him by implying that I was his equal, and she was far above him."

  
"And insulting you."

  
"Oh, no!" Mars hastened to correct his companion's mistake. "I was born to peasants, and the Argent Order is not concerned with seeking status. I could only gain by comparison to an Aeldauphin lord."

  
"Hrm." Auran didn't seem wholly convinced, but he motioned Mars onward.

  
"He drew steel, and insulted my mistress-knight, saying he would keep my head, and use it to un-nerve her before he killed her."

  
"Hah! Unlikely."

  
"Just so did I retort, and he grew wroth, and fell upon me in a cascade of steel."

  
Auran leaned forward. "And then...?"

  
Mars grinned. "Well, he took me through the heart, killed me stone dead, sawed off my head, and is carrying it around on his belt now."

  
Laughing, Auran shoved Mars' shoulder across the table. "You've a clever mouth, for a headless corpse! What really happened?"

  
"Sir Drake had charged me to watch him carefully during their duel, and I had. And I recognized his opening sequence - the same he had launched upon my mistress-knight."

  
"The fool."

  
"Indeed. I trapped his sword with my shield, disarmed him, and ran him through."

  
Auran clenched his fist in victory, and asked, slyly, "This wouldn't have happened to have been Lord-"

  
Mars motioned him to silence. "Let us not conjure by that name. The Aeldauphin are prone to retribution, and I'm trying to enjoy myself tonight."

  
"Ha! Tomorrow, then, when we're spoiling for a fight!" Auran smiled at him, glancing downwards. "What of swordwork?"

  
"Oh, um." Mars swallowed. "Well, as to that, I am as innocent as a lamb."

  
Auran fixed him with a disbelieving look. "Truly? Not a grateful daughter among everyone you and your mistress-knight have rescued? No husky stablehands? No kisses snatched from fortress monsters, before they revealed their true colors and tried to do you in?"

  
Mars was well aware that a blush had colored his face, and could do nothing about it. "I am aware of the theory, having been well-educated by the Order. But no experience, no." And before he could fall prey to cowardice, blurted out, "Would you care to change that?"

* * *

  
A little red-faced herself, Blake checked her scroll.

  
< **Yang** : Hey, you coming to dinner?>

  
Blake screwed up her face, checking the time. Where had the afternoon gone?

  
< **Yang** : Want me to grab you anything?>

  
< **Me** : Sorry, lost track of time. Heading over.>

  
She rolled out of bed, leaving her notebook with Pyrrha's story in it on her bed. Blake absolutely wouldn't be able to work on it during dinner. Not with Jaune and Pyrrha the next table over, and Neptune not far away. Besides, they had their extra practice for the Vytal Tournament after dinner, and she needed to actually be here for that, mentally.

  
< **Yang** : Soup of the day is something called halászlé? Smells like fish and paprika.>

  
< **Me** : Get me two bowls. At least.>

* * *

  
Mars finally found the doorknob, and opened the door, bearing Auran over the threshold. Quite literally, for his legs were locked around Mars' waist. 

  
Auran broke their kiss, sighing. "But I liked being pressed up against the door!" He gave Mars a wicked smile and slipped off of him, 'accidentally' brushing up against the bulge in Mars' trousers.

  
Breathing heavily, Mars tried to pull his companion closer, but Auran slipped out of his hands and made a show of looking around the small private dining room.

  
"Well, it isn't much, but the table looks sturdy enough." He sat on it, squirming a bit. "Not as comfortable as a bed, but that's the problem with these small taverns. No rooms to let."

  
Mars didn't trust his mouth to speak, so he just closed the distance between them, planting his hands on Auran's hips, and pausing a bare breath from his wordy companion's lips.

  
Auran spoke, his lips brushing Mars', "Impatient, aren't you, squire?"

  
"Life is short. And you are handsome."

  
Smiling, Auran kissed him. "And _you_ are wearing too many clothes for such charming talk." He pushed him away, and started undoing his doublet. "As am I."

  
Mars hastily divested himself of his garments. Sweet, slow, and romantic could wait. Especially in this setting.

  
Auran evidently felt the same way, because no sooner had they shed the last of their clothes when Auran nearly tackled Mars, bearing him against the door. His hands caressed Mars' hips as he kissed him. But all Mars could think about was the hard manhood, pressed against his own.

  
Moaning, Mars reached down - to grab his own cock or Auran's, he wasn't sure. But Auran slipped away again, chuckling. Tracing lines across the fine hair of Mar's chest. "Now, now, your first time should be special." His hand dipped lower, brushing his knuckles across the head of Mars' manhood, sending an almost electric shock through him. "Just try to hold still."

  
Pressing close again, Auran slowly dropped to his knees, leaving kisses and love-bites down Mars' front.

  
Breathing heavily, Mars leaned back against the door, fisting his hands in his own hair. He had never imagined-

  
Auran lapped at his jutting cockhead, and Mars nearly leapt at the sudden surge of energy.

  
Laughing, Auran laid his forehead on Mars' leg. "Still, squire, still!" He stroked Mars' length with his fingertips. "Relax, enjoy the sensations."

  
Mars tried to take Auran's advice, but he felt like a new bowstring, strung for the first time. And every time Auran touched him, he thrummed in response.

  
Unlike the bowstring, though, moisture wasn't relaxing him. He was very sure of that, with Auran making an exhaustive study of his manhood with his tongue.

  
Panting for breath, Mars kept his hands entangled in his own hair. Auran clearly knew what he was doing, and didn't require amateurish direction. 

  
Capturing Mars' length in his hand, Auran looked up at him. "Feel free to make noises, Mars. Lets me know I'm doing a good job." And he slipped the tip of Mars' manhood into his mouth, doing things with his tongue that Mars could only vaguely follow, drowning in pleasure. Mars obliged his lover with a low moan, slumped against the door, his knees barely strong enough to support him.

  
Auran made a happy sound in the back of his throat, and went deeper.

  
Mars wasn't honestly sure how much of this he could take. It was just so totally unlike his own fumbling masturbations - practically sublime, transcendent. The edges of his vision began to tremble, and he felt an eruption begin to build. "...Auran..." He groaned, trying to warn him.

  
But his lover just looked up at him with those deep blue eyes, with a look of total and obviously feigned innocence. And Auran went deeper, wrapping his hands around Mars' muscular buttocks, trying to take all of him.

  
It was too much.

  
Still moaning his lover's name, Mars felt his essence pulse out of his manhood. And Auran held on and outlasted him, until Mars' cock felt as weak as his knees.

  
Backing off and swallowing, Auran looked up at Mars. "The first of many, I hope." He stroked Mars' length with the side of his thumb, and was rewarded with a twitch. "Ah, already preparing for the next bout! I'll make you the joy of the bawdy houses yet, my friend."

  
Slowly getting his wind back, Mars asked, "Show me how to do that?"

  
Auran laughed. "You may be assured of that." He stood, nestling himself by Mars' side, making feather-light touches on his hips, his chest, his cock. And locking his lips and teeth on Mars' shoulder, somehow making that feel almost as good as his tongue had on Mars' manhood.

  
The passage of time was fuzzed for Mars, swaddled in glorious sensation, but he became slowly conscious of Auran's erection, pressed against his thigh. And, when Auran took it in hand, his own, restored.

  
Mars moaned, and started thrusting into the pleasurable confines of Auran's hand, prompting another laugh.

  
"My impatient friend, would you shoot the fawn and let the stag escape?" Auran let him go, and crossed to the pile of his clothes. He pulled a flask from his belt - Mars greatly enjoying the view as he bent over to do so - and poured a dollop of the gooey substance within onto his hand.

* * *

  
Blake had given up on waiting, and was lying in bed, hurriedly typing away on her scroll.

  
It chimed, and Yang _finally_ leaned down from the top bunk and passed her notebook back. Nodding at Blake's scroll, because Ruby and Weiss were furiously playing a videogame behind her, with Zwei paying rapt attention.

  
< **Yang** : More lube.>

  
Yang had returned to the top bunk, and Blake could hear her typing more, so she made herself wait before responding.

  
< **Yang** : Sorry that took me so long, but yeah, more lube.>

  
< **Me** : More?>

  
< **Yang** : Definitely more.>

  
Blake thought for a moment before sending her response. It _probably_ wasn't too far. This was _Yang_ , after all.

  
< **Me** : You're sure this isn't just a kink of yours?>

  
< **Yang** : I mean, I'm not saying you have to empty a smallcask of lube over the two of them.>

  
< **Yang** : But if you're trying to fix a squeaky chain, do you just put a little bit on, and hope it helps, or do you just douse it, and wipe up the excess?>

  
< **Me** : ...That depends how much oil I have.>

  
< **Yang** : Blake, you're writing this. Auran has as much lube as you want to give him.>

  
Tuning out Ruby's frantic noises - they must be fighting a boss - Blake tried to rephrase the lube-pouring sentence. She may as well keep writing the rest on her scroll, though. Lights out was in ten minutes, and, however madly she wrote, Blake didn't think she could finish that quickly. 

  
Her scroll chimed with another message from Yang.

  
Aaaaaaaand Yang had just sent her a link to a site that sold fifty-five gallon drums of personal lubricant.

  
Blake threw her pillow, hooking it around the top bunk to hopefully hit Yang.

  
And went back to writing.

* * *

  
...and poured a generous measure of the gooey substance within onto his hand. He held out the flask to Mars, and applied the rest to himself, slowly easing a finger inside, making contented noises as he did.

  
Mars took the flask, and, emptying a similar amount onto his cock, closed the flask and set it down. Slowly working the slick substance over his entire length, as Auran watched him, lip caught between his teeth.

  
Turning away, Auran wiggled his tightly-muscled ass at Mars. "How would you like me? Bent over the table, pressed against the wall-"

  
But Mars was again out of words, as he seized Auran by the hips and pressed him towards the table, his cock already twitching in anticipation.

  
Laughing - ever laughing - Auran put his weight on the table, settling his legs into a broad stance. "If you want me to stop talking, all you have to do is fuck me until I can't think."

  
Mars wasn't sure he wanted _that_ , precisely. He liked the way Auran wove words. But he also liked the pert curves of his butt. He took himself in hand, and positioned his cockhead at Auran's entrance.

  
And slowly pushed forward, Auran pushing back against him - almost agonizingly slow, feeling Auran tighten on him with every breath.

  
Until he was buried to the hilt, and Auran's head was lowered, panting for breath, saying in a barely audible undertone, "Oh, Mars, you feel so good." Shifting his feet, squeezing his lover's cock tightly. 

  
Unconsciously at first, and then with more and more confidence, Mars started moving back and forth. Shifting Auran's feet back out, into a wider stance - less tight, but easier to move. 

  
And it seemed Auran wasn't used to being on the receiving end, because he wasn't even forming words anymore, just moans, and the odd, short, sharp "Mars!" when Mars thrust deeply.

  
Again, Mars felt that curious warmth gathering deep within himself, and knew he could no more stop himself than the tides. So he threw himself into his work, relishing every inch of Auran, slowly drawing back, and slamming forward, forcing cries of joy out of his lover.

  
And when he stood up the brink, he heard Auran cry out his name, and tighten on him, too tight to even move, and he erupted, knowing that his lover had also exploded with joy, that he had brought Auran there, and Auran had dragged him over as well.

  
After an endless moment, pressing against each other, sweat wet upon them, Mars slipped out of his lover and staggered back a few steps. He grabbed the back of a chair for support, breathing heavily.

  
The chair was quite inviting, and he found himself sitting in it, staring down at himself, then back up at his lover, who had also sunk into a chair. Mars and his manhood were slowly shaking off their fatigue, and rising to prominence again. Mars retrieved the bottle of lubricant, and poured out more, preparing himself. "I believe you said something about sitting in your lap?"

  
But Auran motioned him to silence, snatching his dagger from the floor, and crossing silently to the door.

  
Frowning, Mars stooped and laid his dry hand on his sword. What had Auran heard?

  
Auran jerked the door open, and seized the huddled form that had been crouched by the door, hurling them inside, halfway between the two of them.

  
And Mars relaxed, because it was just the pretty red-headed barmaid, bosom heaving, and eyes wide as she stared at him.

  
Slamming the door shut, Auran stomped forward, brandishing his dagger. "Why are you spying on us? Who sent you?!"

  
She skittered back towards Mars - and he noticed a wicked-edged knife appear in her hand. She very well _might_ be a spy. That was no eating knife.

  
But... Mars noticed something about the hand curled around the knife hilt. He let his sword be, and laid a hand on the barmaid's shoulder. "Auran, don't be absurd." She looked back at him, green eyes wide. "Show him your hand."

  
Her eyes searched his face for a moment before she came to a decision. She vanished her knife, and held out her hand for Auran to see.

  
He squinted at it. "So?"

  
Mars sighed. "If you would look _closer_ , you'd see that her first two fingers are wet."

  
"And?"

  
Turning to the barmaid, Mars asked, "Would you like to show him, or should I explain?"

  
She bit her lip, and pulled up the hem of her skirt, showing off a neatly trimmed tuft of hair and her dripping sex.

  
Auran blinked a few times, than looked at Mars. "You mean-"

  
Mars lifted his hand to stroke the barmaid's red hair. "She's only been spying on us for pleasure."

  
"Oh." Auran looked down at the dagger in the hand, and moved it behind himself, as if to hide it. "Well, I have no objection to that."

  
"More than no objection, I will give you an invitation. I am Mars, my suspicious friend is Auran, and you are...?"

  
"Vikki."

  
Laughing, Mars pulled her to her feet. "Well, Victory, being yourself, and having seen us, would you like to complete the phrase?"

  
Auran tossed his dagger back amidst his pile of clothes, coming over to lean against the table. "Mars, she's only a barmaid. Why would she know military history?"

  
Rolling her eyes, Vikki shed her dress with shocking speed. And facing them, caressing herself, she said, "Vici, vidi, veni."

  
Mars tousled his lover's hair. "You heard the woman. She wants to come."

  
"Actually, grammatically-" Auran kept talking, but Vikki had hopped up, wrapping her legs around Mars' waist, and kissing him forcefully, so he wasn't in a position to listen to any more.

  
Frustratingly, his throbbing manhood wasn't inside of her. Instead, it pulsed, ineffectually laid lengthwise on her pussy. Mars was trying to re-adjust, slip inside of her, but he was being overwhelmed by her kisses, driving him back into the table.

  
Auran came to his rescue, grabbing her around the waist, and re-positioning her. And Mars felt the tip of his cock slip inside of her, joined by Auran's. Vikki moaned into his mouth, practically vibrating with pleasure.

  
As the two of them pushed deeper into her, she broke their kiss to bury her face in Mars' shoulder. She wasn't the only one being pushed to her limit, for Mars' cock was being crushed against Auran's, and they were moving as one, forcing cries of pleasure out of their erstwhile voyeur.

  
Vikki quieted herself by biting Mar's shoulder - which meant that he felt her screams in his bones, instead of his ears. He freed a hand from her long enough to clasp hands with Auran, and their eyes met over Vikki - not able to kiss over the distance, at least not while keeping up their tandem motion. But the intensity of their gaze said all that needed to be said. 

  
Auran snapped his eyes shut, driving harder, and Mars matched him, feeling his lover shudder as he neared his climax.

  
When Auran, groaning, unleashed himself, he drove the other two over the edge as well, still moving, dragging out their orgasms. Even after the men thought they had finished, Vikki's tight wavering drew more from them.

  
At last, they separated, leaning on the table and chairs, not a soul among them trusting the strength of their knees.

  
It was Vikki who first interrupted their panting with words. "Again?"

  
Wheezing in laughter, Auran gasped out, "Not a patient soul among you Lats!"

  
Mars reached out and tugged on her red braid. "It's my turn to get fucked." He was perversely pleased that he had managed to say that, even if his face did match her hair. "You can help."

  
Vikki didn't look particularly perturbed by that, retrieving the bottle of lubricant with a smile.

* * *

  
Yang handed Blake's scroll back to her, and leaned forward to speak quietly into her ear. Everyone else was asleep now, after all. "I dunno, Blake. I like it, but including, um, 'Vikki'-" she made the quote marks on Blake's shoulder, "-might be too far."

  
Twisting around, Blake nestled herself in her friend's arms, glancing over the last of what she'd written. Thinking about some of her own recent experiences with involving herself in her fantasies. And absolutely not able to face Yang while she did that.

  
...Not that Yang could see _all_ that well, just by the moon- and star-light of the window, and slight illumination of the scroll. But still.

  
Blake nodded, confident that Yang could see that much, at least. "Oh, um. Yeah, I can see that." She backread a bit more. "I can always just chop it at the line about sitting in laps, and leave Mars and Auran on the implication that they made love long into the night. And ask if she wants a part two, either where Vikki joins them, or, um, back in Auran's room? Wherever that is."

  
"Good-" Yang broke off her words with a yawn, and pressed a thumbs-up into Blake's side. "-idea." She peeked at Blake's scroll, checking the time. "...We should actually get some sleep." Yang started to get out of Blake's bed, to climb up to her own.

  
Blake caught her hand. "...Stay?"

  
"Sure." Yang settled back down, holding Blake closely as she saved her work, checked her alarm, and closed her scroll.

  
_I'll consolidate the handwritten and digital parts. Tomorrow._

  
_I'm just going to enjoy tonight. Safe in the strong arms of my sunny dragon._


End file.
